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Friday, 20 December 2013

LOCOMOTION 1: SEE ME WAHALA! - TONY OKOROJI

I once wrote a small column for the Punch. I was a lot younger with a lot of fire in the belly. Despite the mad tussle with deadlines and the once in a while writers block, it was fun. I had very strong opinions and could not wait for people to hear them. Of course, when you are young, you think that you are the only one who has an opinion that counts. As you get older however, you begin to realize how stupid you have been. Everybody has an opinion and everybody thinks that their opinion counts.


A 29 year old American called Mark Elliot Zuckerberg found out how much everybody wants to express their opinion. As a result, Zuckerberg has become a billionaire several times over. On Zuckerberg’s Facebook, everybody is expressing their opinion to everybody whether they want to hear or not. Dirty linens are being washed with the whole world watching and the stinking water splashed around with complete abandon. Girls are stalking guys on Facebook and guys are enjoying being stalked. You can’t be on Facebook and not say something. It is like a huge Oyingbo market. So, everybody is talking, everybody is lying and everybody is posing. In the new world of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and BBM, everybody is a publisher, everybody is an editor and everybody is a columnist. 


Several times recently, I have been asked to write a column for a newspaper. Several times I have said no. Why? As I have grown older, I have taken more to heart the Igbo saying that a palm wine tapper does not reveal everything he sees from the top of the palm wine tree. Just imagine what would happen in the kindred if the local palm wine tapper had to describe the luscious naked women who thought they were bathing safely away from prying eyes or the illicit love affairs where the lovers thought they were in a world of their own and that apart from the skies, their secret was all theirs or the big tubers of yam thought to be secure from all and sundry in the rich man’s ban. Like the local palm wine tapper, I have seen quite a bit and I have thought it better for me to stay away from the babble.

The other matter is: Is anyone really interested in what I have to say? Is anyone going to read what I write when all the kids are busy pinging and charting away on their Blackberry or playing computer games? Have you noticed that it is almost impossible these days to hold the attention of any young person for five minutes except of course you are telling him of a new cheaper and faster data plan?

Then, there is the question of how I will find the time to write anything in the midst of a crushing schedule. How do I write a column when Tee Mac is busy telling everybody that I am a fraud and the people at BON are looking for my head and every artiste wants more royalties? Pray, how do I write a column when Chinedu Chukwuji, my oga at the top, warns me that I need a break urgently but goes ahead to schedule back to back meetings for me with lawyers and impossible Nigerian broadcasters who look for every reason under the sun to avoid paying small royalty for the music that sustains their operations?

As if I have not stressed my marriage enough - how do I tell madam that with my eyes open, I have added to the wahala she has to tolerate – night after cold nights when at 2 am, 3 am and 4 am, the whole world is sleeping and she tiptoes into the study to find me hunched over, hammering at the keyboard of my long suffering lap top?  I still do not understand how I was trapped into saying yes to writing a column for a newspaper when the whole world is writing columns on Facebook. Is it the old school guy in me clinging to a past that is fast disappearing? While a lot of people I know get all their news these days on the Internet, I still read newspapers the old fashioned way. I still cannot manage a day going by without me caressing some newsprint.

You know, I used to read Rueben Abati like mad. Outside of Ray Ekpu and my ‘paddy’, Sonala Olumhense, I thought Rueben was the real deal. He has style. Till today I cannot figure out how Rueben could give up the best job in the world. For what?! Seriously, how much does GEJ pay Rueben to write those drab government press releases? It takes a peculiar kind of talent to be a good government propagandist and I do not think that Rueben has that kind of talent. Seriously, there has to be something in the constitution that makes it a capital offence to take a great guy like Ruben Abati and make him the writer of government press releases.



N.B. THE LOCOMOTION SERIES IS PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN SATURDAY INDEPENDENT ON PAGE 37

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